


Christmas Meetings

by TheGameIsOn_Geronimo



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Crack, First Meetings, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, It's fluff and crack with a sprinkle of angst because - let's face it - I've written it, M/M, Trains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:02:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21952639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGameIsOn_Geronimo/pseuds/TheGameIsOn_Geronimo
Summary: Arthur gets a busy and delayed train home from work before Christmas, and then decides to share a taxi with a raven-haired stranger and his friends who are dressed as knights. It's certainly an evening he won't forget for a while!
Relationships: (if you really squint), Gwaine/Percival (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 180





	Christmas Meetings

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas everyone!! I hope everyone who celebrates it has a lovely time, and if you don't then you still have a great day! And if it's a hard time of year for you, maybe this will help make you smile and just know that there are people here for you.  
> This was an idea that my friends and I came up with while we were stuck on a busy train... I then took artistic licence and made it Christmas, because sometimes you just need fluff and crack at Christmas.  
> Any mistakes are my own, and feel free to let me know if you spot any.  
> Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy it!

The train was absolutely packed. The sort of packed where if you shift even a centimetre two people will fall over, and you’ll tread on someone’s toes. Arthur kind of wanted to die. Right here. Right now. Or teleport home. Anything to get him off this stupid train. He swayed against the people around him as the train set off (finally) from the platform.

A man pressed against the door had managed to extricate a book from his bag, and was contorted in what looked like a very painful way, to try and read it. A couple sitting (lucky!) nearby were going through their many bags of shopping purchases. Further down the carriage, a group of men dressed as honest-to-god medieval knights were hanging off the overhead bars as they giggled together. Arthur made a mental note to never again travel on a Saturday before Christmas. _Never ever_.

He idly watches the knights as the train sways along the tracks, blatantly ignoring his ever-present mental urges for it to _go faster dammit_. One of the men, with shoulder-length brown hair and a shit-eating grin had pulled a Santa hat out of _somewhere_ (Arthur didn’t think there were pockets in chain mail but he wasn’t an expert), and was holding it up by the bobble while trying to sneakily place it on a man’s head who was seated close by. The raven-haired man was engrossed in a book, and Arthur really really hoped that he knew the dressed-up men, as otherwise this would be awkward and he would die of second-hand embarrassment.

The hat landed perfectly on the reader’s head, and the knight let out a triumphant yell, which was quickly echoed by his friends, who stupidly let go of their hand holds to high-five and fist pump each other, before nearly falling over. The seated man’s gaze didn’t leave the pages of his book, but one hand did raise to feel the hat on his head. A grin of amusement split his face, and he tugged the hat down more firmly over his hair. Arthur didn’t think he had ever felt more relieved.

At some point along the way, the knights crack out cans of beer, both for themselves, and then selflessly starting to offer them to anyone in the carriage who will make eye contact with them. Arthur doesn’t even want to think about how much alcohol they have already consumed (it must take a certain amount to allow people to come on a train is suits-of-armour with no shame whatsoever, right?), and just watches them with a growing sense of amazement as more Santa hats appear out of nowhere along with a Christmas cracker. Arthur tries to add up how many hours of sleep he’s had this week in order to determine if hallucinations are possible. It’s possible he supposes, but sadly this seems very real.

The cracker is pulled with much laughter, but then the brown-haired man loses and gets the smaller side of the cracker, and says very softly ‘What the hell?’ before thumping one of his companions (the one who won the cracker pull) hard in the arm. The others all start jeering, and Arthur decides very quickly that he does not want them to start fighting and _oh my gosh what would he do if they started fighting, this suit is brand-new goddammit._ He glances quickly over to the man sitting with the Santa hat, and sees that he is resolutely ignoring his friends’ antics. He wants to melt, and it is too hot on this train, and he can’t breathe.

An announcement sounds out through the carriage, successfully snapping the knights out of their posturing as their attention is directed elsewhere. ‘Ladies and Gentlemen, we regret to inform you -‘ Bad sign. ‘That this service will be stopping at the next station –‘ _No._ ‘- due to industrial action on this line. Please leave the train at the next station, and take the rail replacement bus service on to your final destination.’ Arthur groans along with a lot of the people crammed onto the train. If there’s one thing he hates more than packed trains, it’s packed buses, especially late at night when he just wants to go home and sleep.

He glances over to the knights, who are very dramatically groaning, and pretending to cry while clutching their hearts as though they’ve heard the worst news in the world, and then laughing at each other. His eyes shift to the seated man with them, who suddenly glances up and meets his gaze. He gives Arthur a rueful smile, and looks away, and all Arthur can think is _Oh he has really blue eyes_. He really needs to sleep.

The train slowly pulls into the station, and Arthur heaves a deep breath of fresh chilly air as the doors open and people swarm out. He follows the flock of commuters, and a glance over his shoulder shows the blue-eyed man ushering his knight friends out onto the platform where they stumble along with the rush. He exits the station, and then stops. His eyes land on the bus waiting near the entrance, already full and only getting busier. Something tense twists in his stomach. His hands are starting to go numb with the cold, and shivers start to rack his frame as he stands in the frigid air. The last thing he wants to do is get on that bus. An expensive cab will just have to do for tonight. He huffs out a cloud of condensed breath, tucks his hands deep into his jacket pocket, and then heads to the taxi rank, mentally cursing the trains, and the cold, and his stupid office job in the city.

He is brought out of his reverie by the sound of laughter in front of him, and looking up he sees the raven-haired man trying to help his drunk friends coordinate themselves into a cab. They’re obviously trying to be as difficult as possible, star fishing out their arms and legs, and guffawing about it. The man just smiles fondly and rolls his eyes at them, and forces their limbs to cooperate by pushing them with his hands. Arthur is amazed at the man’s patience and kindness, and something warm blooms in his stomach. He doesn’t think any of his friends would ever put up with him doing that. Finally, the man finishes stuffing his friends into the mini-bus like cab, and is just about to hop in himself, when he looks around and spots Arthur.

‘Hey mate!’ he calls, and Arthur tries to pretend that he hasn’t been staring at him for the last five minutes. ‘Are you going to Camelot?’

‘Yeah.’ Arthur answers, curious as to what the next question might be.

The man grins at him, and Arthur is suddenly struck by how handsome he is. His sharp cheekbones are highlighted in the streetlights, his smile wide and kind. ‘Want to share a cab?’

Arthur blinks in surprise, ‘What?’ he asks, stupidly.

‘Want to share the cab? Then we can split the fare. It’s going to be a fortune anyway.’

Arthur takes a stumbling step back, thinking anxiously of the drunk men accompanying this man, and shakes his head hurriedly. ‘Oh no, I couldn’t possibly –‘

‘Oh, come on!’ the man cajoles, ‘Just for today. Seriously it’ll really help my financial situation.’

‘What about your friends?’ Arthur asks, trepidation lacing his tone.

‘They won’t mind. Come on.’ He smirks at him, ‘Seriously, we won’t murder you or anything.’

Arthur deflates, the cold is cutting into his bones, and this is the last cab around at the moment, and he really doesn’t want to wait, and this man seems so honest and sweet that Arthur doesn’t think he could ever say no to him.

He takes a hesitating step forwards, and then squares his shoulders and strides to the cab. The man’s smile widens, and he holds out a hand, ‘I’m Merlin.’

Arthur returns a stilted smile, and shakes Merlin’s hand. ‘Arthur. It’s a pleasure.’

‘Pleasure to meet you too.’

And then Arthur is clambering into the cab, landing in the forward-facing seat next to the knight with the long brown hair. Merlin clambers in after him, sitting in the seat opposite him, and pulling the door closed, and just like that the cab sets off, and Arthur decides he is really going to have to evaluate all of his life choices.

‘This is Gwaine, Leon, Percival, and Lancelot,’ Merlin tells him, gesturing to the man next to Arthur, and to the two by the window, and finally to the man sitting next to himself. Arthur nods to each of them, and receives a clap on the shoulder from Gwaine, a small smile from Leon and Percival, and a handshake from Lancelot, who seems like the most sober of the bunch. ‘Guys, this is Arthur.’

Arthur stretches out his fingers in his lap, letting the heating start to defrost them, and then asks, curious despite himself, ‘Christmas party?’

Gwaine starts howling with laughter as though he has said something hilarious, which sets the others off.

‘No princess,’ he says, ‘We just enjoy dressing up as medieval knights on trains.’ Arthur blushes at the nickname, and glances at Merlin who is watching Gwaine with affection, before looking back at Arthur and smiling again. ‘Yes it was the office Christmas party, and some people –‘ he jerks his head in the knights’ direction, ‘drank a bit too much.’

‘Lightweight!’ Gwaine bellows, and Arthur surreptitiously rubs his ear at the volume.

‘Where do you work?’ He asks, quietly, trying to make sure he’s touching Gwaine in as few places as possible, which is difficult with the way he seems to be melting into the seat and constantly squirming with giggles.

‘Oh, just a publishing office on the south side,’ Merlin answers, and Arthur’s heart jumps slightly as he realises that Merlin must _read stories_ for a living. He remembers a little Arthur running through the house with fantasy books about heroes and dragons clutched in little hands as he tells his father he wants to write stories when he grows up, and Uther saying without looking up from his finance reports, _No absolutely not. My son must have a_ real _job_ , and something dying inside him.

‘That sounds fun.’ He croaks out, trying not to let his voice crack.

‘It is.’ Merlin agrees, ‘It’s hard work though. What do you do?’ And he looks so earnestly curious and innocent, and Arthur feels so useless and fake in front of him.

‘I work for a bank.’

Merlin raises an eyebrow, ‘Oh cool.’ He says, but it doesn’t sound like he properly means it. Arthur again feels like he wants to melt away, but then Merlin says, ‘You will never believe this book I had to proof-read today,’ and proceeds to tell a story of a woman who kills anyone she kisses, so she gives up on her pursuit of love, and then meets a ghost who she can kiss because (get this) _he’s already dead_. The story has them all giggling like school children, and Arthur incredibly finds himself relaxing.

From then on, the journey is a lot better. Arthur isn’t sure he remembers when he last laughed so hard. It certainly wasn’t with any of his co-workers. Leon slumps next to window fast asleep after only ten minutes, breath fogging up the glass. Gwaine starts a Christmas sing-along, and does a surprisingly amazing rendition of ‘Silent Night’, then nags Arthur until he’ll join in with them all singing ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas.’ Merlin and Arthur then do a (very good if he does say so himself) version of ‘Baby It’s Cold Outside’ that sets them all of giggling again.

By the time they make it Camelot, Gwaine’s arm is wrapped over Arthur’s shoulders as he slurs the words of ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas.’ Arthur is frankly impressed by his stamina. Merlin takes charge directing the cab to various streets and addresses, and at each one helps the respective friend out and to their front door. Lancelot is met at the open door by a pretty woman, who helps Merlin pull him inside. Gwaine and Percival are dragged out together, and ushered up some stairs to a flat. Merlin takes a bit longer to return to the cab from there, and Arthur imagines Gwaine clinging onto his arm while sobbing dramatically at them having to part, while Merlin tries to get him a glass of water. Leon is last, and Merlin shakes him awake, sends him a warm smile, and helps him into his house.

And then it’s only Merlin and Arthur left. It suddenly feels too quiet, and too close, and too intimate, and Arthur can’t breathe. Merlin looks at him, a soft expression on his face.

‘Thanks for putting up with them.’ He says, honestly.

‘It was nothing.’

Merlin laughs, and that warm feeling blossoms in Arthur’s chest again. He is so screwed. ‘It was far from nothing.’

They pull up outside a small townhouse, and Merlin passes over a few notes to the driver to pay his share of the fare.

‘Bye then,’ Merlin says as he pushes open the door and steps out, and Arthur scrambles out after him, while telling the driver to wait for him. The temperature has dropped further during the drive, and white snowflakes have started to fall from the sky. They land on Arthur’s shoulders, and dust Merlin’s hair (now no longer covered by a Santa hat due to Gwaine wanting to donate one to the cab driver) in tiny crystals. He looks ethereal, and Arthur hasn’t felt this way in a long time. The night feels magical.

‘Um Merlin?’ he says hesitantly, nerves bubbling in his gut.

Merlin has hurried up his front steps, shoulders hunched against the chill, but he turns back at Arthur’s voice.

‘Yes?’

Arthur shuffles his feet, ‘Thank you for this.’ He gestures to the taxi behind him, ‘It was… different.’ Somehow the word doesn’t feel adequate. How can he tell Merlin that the journey made him feel more alive then he has in months, without sounding like a lunatic?

Merlin smiles (soft so soft, his brain supplies) at him, ‘A bit better than being in a taxi all alone I think.’ And Arthur agrees with him, although he thinks the Arthur from earlier in the evening would be having a heart attack at the very thought.

He glances down at his feet, clenches his fingers into fists in his pockets, takes a deep breath, and then gasps out, ‘Do you think I could see you again?’ His heart hammers hard in his chest.

Merlin tilts his head at him, and then walks back down the steps until he is so close to Arthur that their fogged breaths mingle. There are snowflakes in Merlin’s eyelashes, and Arthur has the irrational urge to stroke his rosy cheeks.

Merlin stares at him, his eyes deep dark oceans in the dim light. ‘Yes.’ He breathes out. His eyes flick down to Arthur’s lips, and Arthur’s breath catches. ‘I think we could.’

‘Oh.’ Arthur says, and then there are warm lips against his, and fire scorching through his veins. Merlin is so warm where he is pressed against him, and Arthur clutches desperately at his shirt to pull him closer, and Merlin hums in approval. They break apart after a minute, panting breaths as they press their foreheads together. Arthur’s eyes have closed of their own accord, but as he drags them open he sees Merlin staring at him.

‘I need to get inside.’ Merlin whispers to him, hands running up and down Arthur’s arms, causing Arthur to shiver at the touch.

‘Okay.’ Arthur breathes, disappointment and elation warring within him.

‘Come and visit me tomorrow?’ Merlin asks, biting his lip like he’s nervous Arthur will say no after kissing him in the street.

‘Okay,’ Arthur replies, and then smiles, blinding and true, before they release each other and Merlin heads back to his door. Arthur has one leg back in the cab when he remembers.

‘Oh, Merlin!’

Merlin turns to look at him over his shoulder, eyes bright and smile happy, ‘Yes?’

‘Merry Christmas!’

Merlin beams at him, as his door unlocks and clicks open. ‘Merry Christmas to you too, Arthur!’ he calls as he steps inside.

Arthur sits back in the taxi, gives the driver his address, and doesn’t stop smiling for the rest of the night.


End file.
